t 





CHRISTIANITY DESIGNED AND ADAPTED TO BE A 
UNIVERSAL RELIGION. 




DISCOURSE 




DELIVERED AT THE ORDINATION 



REV. JAMES W. THOMPSON, 



AS PASTOR OF THE 



SOUTH CONGREGATIONAL SOCIETY, 



IN NATICK, 
FEB. 17, 1830. 

ALEXANDER YOUNG, 

E CHURCH ON CHURCH GREEN, BOSTON. 



BLISHED BY REQUEST. 



BOSTON: 
ED BY GRAY AND BO^EN. 



1830. 



is 



BOSTON PRESS. — BROMFIELD STREET. 



DISCOURSE 



John VIII. 12. 

I AM THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 

Were an intelligent citizen of one of the most re- 
fined nations of antiquity permitted to revisit the 
earth at the present day, and observe the changes 
which had taken place since his time, there is noth- 
ing, I think, that would more forcibly arrest his 
attention, than the influence which the christian reli- 
gion has exerted on the character and condition of 
mankind. For example, were that great and good 
man, Socrates, at this moment among us, instituting a 
comparison between the present state of things in the 
world, and that which subsisted in his own age, I 
doubt not it would be his spontaneous and hearty 
confession, that he now witnessed, in no inconsidera- 
ble measure, that intellectual and moral advance- 
ment of his species, which was formerly the dearest 
hope of his heart, and the anticipation of which was 
the greatest solace of his sufferings and the only re- 
ward of his labours. He would acknowledge that 
the human race had gone forward in a path that 



4 



might be tracked by its exceeding brightness ; that 
there was much more of wisdom, of virtue, and of 
enjoyment in the world ; that the nations had be- 
come more civilized ; that the mass of the people 
were more enlightened and moral ; and that a more 
correct estimate of the nature and sources of hap- 
piness had diffused itself through society. He would 
admit that his own city, the queenly Athens, the seat 
of arts and arms, with all its wealth, and philosophy, 
and refinement, might well be termed barbarous, 
when contrasted with those communities of modern 
times, that enjoy the comforts of social life, act from 
the suggestions of good sense and moral principle, 
and are at all times animated by the desire of im- 
provement. 

He would naturally be led to inquire what were 
the causes of this great progress in society ; and I 
believe, that after a deliberate survey of the several 
agents that might be supposed to have produced this 
effect, he would come to the conclusion, that the 
spirit, the principles, and the institutions of Christian- 
ity had had by far the greatest share in the work. 
He would remember that in ancient times, they had 
many things which they presumed would conduce 
to the well-being of man. They had an ingenious 
religion and a subtile philosophy. They had a lit- 
erature and arts, which were the glory of their age, 
and have been the admiration of all succeeding 
times. They had wise men and great men innu- 
merable. They had dominion, and territory, and 



5 



fame. They had every thing but those peculiar 
blessings which have been conferred upon the world 
by Christianity and the christian sabbath. 

The christian sabbath! That is an institution so 
novel, so peculiar, so dissonant from all his former 
experience, that it attracts the particular notice of 
our Athenian visiter. For six successive days, he 
sees all around him activity and busy life ; in the 
streets, the moving multitude ; in the fields, the joy- 
ful occupations of the hubandman ; industry in the 
workshop, enterprise on the public walks, and thrift 
at home. The morning of the seventh day arrives, 
and the scene is changed. The din of labour has 
ceased; the workshop is closed; the fields are va- 
cant ; the public places are deserted ; the streets are 
a solitude. He listens, but his ear can catch no 
sound. He fears that some terrible judgment has 
fallen upon the devoted city, and that the inmates 
of its dwellings are lifeless. But soon this mysteri- 
ous and melancholy silence is broken ; a strange 
sound strikes upon his ear. It is the sound of the 
sabbath bell. At the signal, he observes the in- 
habitants issuing from their homes. He goes forth 
himself, and is borne along by the swarming multi- 
tude. He remarks an entire change in the appear- 
ance of the population. The very countenances, 
in which, but the day before, he had read the deep 
traces of anxiety and toil, are now tranquil and com- 
posed. The habiliments of industry, too, are laid 
aside, and a simple and decent habit distinguishes 



6 



the day of rest from the day of labour. The mixed 
multitude enters what seems to him a place of pub- 
lic resort. He thinks, doubtless, it is the school 
of some eminent philosopher, who there proposes 
to teach men wisdom. He has a curiosity to hear 
the system which he teaches, that he may compare 
it with those prevalent in his own times ; and he ac- 
cordingly enters. 

He finds gathered there persons of all ages, ranks, 
and conditions, engaged with solemn demeanour in 
what he supposes to be a religious service. He lis- 
tens to the address of the officiating priest, and he 
confesses that he has at last heard what he had long 
sought, yet sought in vain, among the discordant and 
bewildering systems of ancient theology. He hears 
the welcome declaration, that a Saviour 4 hath abol- 
ished death, and brought life and immortality to 
light ; that the hour is coming in which all that are 
in the grave shall hear his voice, and shall come 
forth.' Christ crucified might, indeed, appear fool- 
ishness to his conceited countrymen assembled in the 
Areopagus. They might mock when Paul preach- 
ed to them of the resurrection of the dead. But to 
the enlarged and enlightened mind of Socrates, it 
would present itself as a most reasonable and ac- 
ceptable doctrine. To him, who had himself died a 
martyr in the cause of truth and virtue, a crucified 
and a risen Saviour would appear 'the power of 
God and the wisdom of God.' — When reflecting, at 
the close of the day, on all that he had seen and 



7 



heard, he would testify that this stated season of rest 
and worship was a most useful and blessed institu- 
tion. He would acknowledge that the sacrifices and 
ceremonies of his national religion, were but as the 
shadows of that spiritual worship in which he sees 
the highest and the humblest in this christian land, 
unitedly engaged. He would admit that all the gor- 
geous processions and splendid festivals of which an- 
tiquity could boast, were but poor pageants when 
contrasted with the simple repose and silence of the 
christian sabbath. 

To the thoughtful and discerning mind of the wise 
man of Athens, there is one characteristic of the 
christian dispensation, that would present itself with 
peculiar force ; and that is, its design and adaptation 
to be a universal religion. The sublime truth, an- 
nounced in those words of our Saviour, ' 1 am the 
light of the world,' is one of the most striking fea- 
tures of his religion. Unlike all other teachers who 
had preceded him, his declared purpose was to en- 
lighten the whole world. The lawgivers, who, be- 
fore his time, had devised codes and established rules 
of civil polity, had legislated solely for their own na- 
tions. The framers of religious systems had formed 
and adapted them to the character and circumstan- 
ces of a particular people. The reformers, who at 
various times had risen up among men, had confined 
their plans of revolution and improvement to some 
designated community. And the philosophers im- 



8 



parted their instructions within so limited a range, 
and to so small a body of select disciples, that it 
seems as if they purposed to conceal them from all 
but the initiated, and were unwilling that their tenets 
should be known beyond the precincts of their own 
schools. In the long lapse of ages, the world had 
seen a Moses, a Numa, and a Zoroaster, men of 
singular wisdom and virtue, labouring with untiring 
perseverance to effect the moral and religious refor- 
mation of their countrymen. There had been many 
and worthy examples of disinterested benevolence, 
and of a pure and devoted love of country. Politi- 
cians, and patriots, and benefactors of nations, had 
appeared in every age and in every region of the 
globe. 

Jesus Christ appeared upon earth, and at the very 
outset, by the mere annunciation of his purpose, a 
purpose at once so sublime and comprehensive, rais- 
ed himself far above all the reformers, philosophers, 
and sages that had ever lived. His large and gen- 
erous soul surveyed and comprehended in its wide 
grasp, all the capacities, interests, wants and woes 
of the whole human race. He sent a keen and 
searching glance over the earth, and he beheld a 
world lying in wickedness and misery. As a pa- 
triot, he wept at the impending desolation of his 
country. As a philanthropist, he mourned over the 
moral desolation and wretchedness of man. He 
would not, therefore, suffer himself to be trammel- 
led and impeded in his career of benevolence and 



9 



reform by the mere accidents of time and place. 
He does not come forth, and, with the narrow views 
of other reformers, proclaim, ' 1 am the light of the 
age — I am the light of my nation — I am the light 
of Judea and Galilee.' But, at the first annuncia- 
tion of his design, he rises at once to the original 
and grand conception of a universal religion ; a re- 
ligion which should comprehend in its wide em- 
brace the numerous and scattered tribes of the great 
human family ; a religion which should be promul- 
gated in every language and in every climate ; and 
accordingly he utters the sublime and solemn dec- 
laration of the text, 6 1 am the light of the world? — 
of the world in all its diversified regions, and in all 
successive ages. 

This idea of a universal religion, a religion which 
should supersede the countless systems of polythe- 
ism and false religion, that prevailed and flourished 
on the earth, you will admit, my hearers, was a 
vast and stupendous one. Putting entirely out of 
view the question of the truth and divine origin of 
this religion, it must be admitted, even by the skep- 
tic, that the mere conception of a scheme so novel 
and grand, is indicative of superiour intellectual 
light and power, and entitles him who disclosed it, 
to profound admiration. And need I ask how 
much his admiration would be increased, when he 
learns that this original conception was first avowed 
by an obscure and unlettered individual, in a seclu- 
ded region, and in the midst of an ignorant and 
2 



10 



narrow-minded people. Let him cast a glance up- 
on the map of the ancient world, and he will observe, 
bordering on the eastern extremity of the great in- 
land sea, a small and narrow strip of land, inhabited 
by a separate and singular people ; a people cut off 
from all intercourse with the rest of the world by 
the peculiarities of their civil and religious polity, 
by a distinctive language and by national prejudice ; 
a people regarded by all other nations with aversion 
and contempt, on account of their alleged exclu- 
siveness and ' hatred of the human race,' and con- 
sequently debarred from all the light that might 
possibly be derived from the learning and philoso- 
phy of their more intelligent neighbours. Now let 
the unbeliever consider, that it was from the bosom 
of a people so secluded, so illiterate, and fully per- 
suaded of the perfection of their own religious faith 
and ritual, that there proceeded a Teacher and 
Reformer, who had formed views and projected a 
scheme for the spiritual and moral renovation of 
our race, which had escaped the researches of all 
preceding times, and far transcended the wisdom of 
the world. An uneducated peasant, a despised 
Galilean, promulgated a plan for the reformation 
and advancement of mankind, that had never once 
entered the mind of any of the boasted sages and 
philosophers of the most liberal, and cultivated 
age.— Can the infidel maintain, can he believe, tjiat 
there was nothing extraordinary, nothing unac- 
countable, nothing supernatural in all this 1 Which 



11 



requires the greatest measure of faith, to believe that 
a solitary, unaided individual, under the inauspicious 
circumstances which have just been detailed, arrived, 
solely by the use of his natural faculties, at the know- 
ledge of most important truths, which had eluded the 
sagacity of the wisest men in all ages, or to be- 
lieve that it was by the inspiration of the Almighty 
that Jesus of Nazareth was enabled to speak as 
never man spake? 

And here I cannot help remarking the seeming 
unfitness and natural inadequacy of the means and 
instruments employed in this great scheme of uni- 
versal reform. Had it been left to human judgment 
to appoint the circumstances of its origin and diffu- 
sion, the author of it, instead of being the reputed 
son of a carpenter, cradled in a manger and bred in 
obscurity, would have been born in a regal palace, 
and nurtured amid delicacy and refinement. The 
wise men of all lands would have been summoned 
to become his teachers, and the princely pupil 
would have imbibed the best lessons of earthly 
wisdom from the lips of an Aristotle or a Zeno. 
When he entered upon his great work, he would 
have chosen men of the same description as his dis- 
ciples ; and his theology would have been cautiously 
and systematically unfolded to the curiosity of the 
educated and refined in the groves of the Academy 
or in the seclusion of the Porch. 

Again, had it been left to human discretion, to 
determine from what class in society the first heralds 



12 



of the new doctrine should be taken, and with what 
qualifications and accomplishments they should be 
endowed, they would, doubtless, have been select- 
ed from the ranks of the educated, the powerful, 
and the opulent. Instead of being plain and unlet- 
tered men, from the lowly occupation of the fish- 
erman, and the hateful calling of the taxgatherer, 
they would have been men of illustrious origin, of 
splendid genius, and profound erudition. Taste 
and talent, power and wealth, would have been 
concentrated in the persons of those who were to 
be sent forth alike into civilized and into barbarous 
lands, on the arduous enterprise of propagating a 
religion which avowed an utter hostility to all the 
existing forms of faith and w T orship, and which could 
be established only by the overthrow of ancient in- 
stitutions and the extermination of popular ceremo- 
nies and opinions. Had it been left to the wisdom 
of man to choose the instruments of such a moral 
revolution, sages and philosophers would have been 
despatched, under royal patronage, and with all the 
means and appurtenances that royal magnificence 
could supply. Fleets and navies would have con- 
voyed them from island to island, and from one 
continent to another; whilst phalanxes and. legions 
would have attended them, as the pioneers of their 
mission, and the guardians of their safety. 

Divine Providence, however, appointed a different 
order of events, and selected agents of a very dif- 
ferent character. Not many wise men, not many 



13 



mighty, not many noble, were called. The truth 
was hid from the wise and prudent, and was reveal- 
ed unto babes in knowledge. The treasure was 
committed to earthen vessels, that the excellency of 
the power might be of God, and not of man. 

Our admiration of an enterprise conceived of un- 
der such unfavourable circumstances, and confided 
to such feeble instruments, is further increased 
when we learn that it was carried into successful 
operation, has been daily gaining strength, spread- 
ing itself more and more widely from that time to 
this, and has been found by experience to be em- 
inently adapted to become a universal religion, by 
its conformity to the broad and prominent features 
of human nature, and by its unrivalled and unques- 
tioned efficacy in making men wiser, better, and 
happier. Eighteen hundred years have now elaps- 
ed since the Founder of our faith uttered his heaven- 
ly doctrine to a few poor and scattered followers in 
the retired villages of Galilee, or in the streets of 
populous Jerusalem ; and from that day to this, it 
has been gradually and imperceptibly diffusing itself 
through the world, from community to community, 
and from nation to nation. The small and almost 
invisible seed that was planted on the banks of 
Jordan, has sprung up and flourished, and sent out 
its boughs unto the sea, and its branches unto the 
river. Cradled among enemies, and almost stran- 
gled at its birth, the religion grew up amidst opposi- 
tion, obloquy, and persecution. It had every thing 



14 



to contend with — learning, philosophy, interest, 
prejudice, priestcraft, and the civil arm. It com- 
bated them all, and made head against them all. 
Without power, without resources, with nothing but 
truth and right on its side, it encountered, and at 
last conquered, all opposition. It gradually under- 
mined the Roman priesthood, secretly triumphed 
over the Roman arms, and in less than three hun- 
dred years seated a christian emperor on the throne 
of the Caesars. From that period we may date its 
toleration, if not its establishment in the world. Its 
subsequent growth has been slow, yet steady. It 
creeps along from kingdom to kingdom, from island 
to island, and from continent to continent, until at 
last the whole earth shall be full of the knowledge 
of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea. 

In the mean time empires have arisen and fallen, 
and the face of the world has been repeatedly chang- 
ed. Christianity witnessed the descent of the bar- 
barian hordes upon the Roman territory, and the 
consequent desolation and downfal of that mighty 
empire. She accompanied them back to their north- 
ern retreats, and by her mild but irresistible influence, 
she civilized the barbarian, and extirpated the im- 
pure and bloody rites of his brutal superstition. She 
banished from among the rude conquerors and the 
polished nations which they overrun, the anxious 
and distracting service of polytheism. Dethroning 
the hosts of false gods, she restored the sceptre of 
the universe to One Supreme and Infinite Being. She 



15 



abolished sacrifices, auguries, and whatever else 
there was puerile and absurd in their pompous su- 
perstitions ; and thus removed every obstacle which 
the policy of the priests interposed between man and 
the Deity. She suppressed the sanguinary com- 
bats of the gladiatorial shows, and the more horrid 
practice of human sacrifices ; overthrew the profane 
altars ; imposed a perpetual silence on the lying ora- 
cles ; prostrated in the dust their senseless idols ; 
flung from their pedestals the statues of their deified 
heroes ; and transformed their splendid temples, from 
asylums of crime, and lurking-places of impurity, 
into houses of spiritual worship and devout sup- 
plication. 

Does any one doubt whether Christianity is suit- 
ed and worthy to become a universal religion? I 
ask him to look at what she has done for the moral 
character and the social condition of our race in 
those countries where she has obtained a footing 
and an influence. By enforcing the relative duties, 
she has established the equality of the sexes, and 
effected an entire change in the constitution of so- 
ciety. By abolishing polygamy, and restraining the 
licentiousness of divorce, she has raised woman from 
the degraded station of a slave or a menial, to the 
rank of a companion and friend of man. She has 
put an end to the unnatural exposure of children, 
caused them to be cherished and instructed, and 
made home the seat of all joy and happiness. She 
has created something of which paganism had no 



16 



experience or conception — the pleasures of reli- 
gious sympathy and the delights of domestic life. 

Compare, now, the condition of slaves in Chris- 
tendom, with the servitude of ancient paganism, or 
of the unbelieving world at the present day. To 
the latter there was no sabbath, no stated time of 
rest, but one monotonous, unbroken round of toil 
and sorrow. No one can deny that the spirit and 
institutions of Christianity have greatly improved the 
condition of this unfortunate class of our brethren. 
She gradually extirpated the slavery of the ancient 
world, and as her spirit is the spirit of freedom, 
equality and justice, I believe that she will one day 
wipe out the foul blot of African slavery. 

Look, too, my hearers, at what Christianity has 
done for the relief of human misery. She has erect- 
ed your hospitals, your alms-houses, your asylums 
and your infirmaries. All these are christian institu- 
tions, dictated by christian precepts, and springing 
from the christian spirit. You might survey all the 
territory of enlightened Greece, or traverse the vast 
domains of the Roman Empire, and not find a sin- 
gle edifice raised and devoted to the relief of suffer- 
ing and want. You could not find a single charitable 
or humane establishment, instituted and endowed by - 
those polite and learned heathen. These, I repeat 
it, are christian inventions, resulting from the benign 
and compassionate spirit of the gospel. In ancient 
times, as you may learn from the New Testament 
alone, the poor, the sick, the infirm, and the aged, 



17 



were but little attended to or regarded. Go through 
their streets, and you may see the wretched victims 
of disease lying by the way-side, and meeting you 
at every turn. And that malady, most melancholy 
and appalling, which assails and prostrates the noble 
intellect, had no retreat. You see the poor maniac, 
whom a false philosophy and a defective science 
stigmatized as possessed by a demoniacal influence, 
manacled, yet wandering at large, exposed to inju- 
ry and insult. — What a blessed change, my friends, 
has the benevolent religion of Jesus produced in the 
feelings, the sentiments, and the practices of men ! 

It is the peculiar glory of Christianity, that she 
inculcates a free, generous, universal benevolence. 
All other religions have been partial and exclusive, 
confining the good- will and charity of their disciples 
to the votaries of the same faith or the inhabitants of 
the same region. The Jew limited his benevolence 
to the children of Abraham ; the Mahometan hates 
the 'christian dog ;' and even the refined citizens 
of the ancient republics, regarded all foreigners as 
barbarians and enemies. Christianity, on the other 
hand, teaches that all men are brethren, creatures of 
the same Almighty Being, children of the same Mer- 
ciful Father ; and that, therefore, they have a mutual 
claim upon each other's sympathy and aid. She 
requires you to love your neighbour as yourself; 
and she tells you that y#ur neighbour is not merely 
the individual who lives at the next door, or in 
the same street, in the same town, or even in the 
3 



18 



same country. The good neighbourhood of the 
gospel is not confined by any artificial and narrow 
bounds of contiguity or vicinage. It is not circum- 
scribed by geographical lines, nor limited by nation- 
al feeling, nor cramped by the partialities of intima- 
cy or kindred. It is not friendship ; it is not pa- 
triotism. It is a more comprehensive and generous 
principle than either of these ; it is philanthropy. 
Christian charity traverses highland and valley, river 
and ocean. Wherever it finds a human being, it 
finds a neighbour and a brother; and wherever it 
finds want or suffering, it stretches out a liberal and 
compassionate hand to relieve and succour it. 

Christianity has become so interwoven with the 
whole texture of modern society ; she has so insinu- 
ated herself into our laws and institutions, our man- 
ners and habits, that it is absolutely impossible for 
any one to say that he is not subject to her control, 
that he is not affected by her precepts or sanctions. 
In every place where her truths are statedly dispens- 
ed, there is a christian atmosphere, enveloping all, 
which every individual is obliged to breathe, wheth- 
er he will or no. The indirect influence of our re- 
ligion, exerted in this way, is incalculable. You 
cannot tell, my hearers, how much your daily en- 
joyment and your nightly security depend upon the 
invisible agency of christian principle. You know 
not how much the quiet possession of your property, 
and the safety of your lives, are insured by the re- 
ligious sentiment and sympathy, which, imbibed in 



19 



the sanctuary, are diffused throughout all the ranks 
of society. 

It is chiefly to the quickening and controlling 
spirit of the gospel, that you must also refer the 
great and manifest improvements which, within a 
few hundred years, have sprung up and spread 
themselves over the earth. Christianity is but the 
collective name of all the civilization, freedom, 
knowledge, virtue and happiness which characterize 
christian lands. The limits of Christendom are 
marked by no faint or uncertain lines. Even with 
all the gross and shocking corruptions that human 
ignorance and policy have gathered around it, no 
one can mistake the features, or fail to remark the 
influence, of our holy faith. No one, for instance, 
will dispute the superiority, both in point of charac- 
ter and condition, even of the superstitious and 
bigoted Catholic of Spain over the brutal Mussulman 
of Turkey. — But such a comparison as this does not 
do justice to the power of our religion. Compare 
rather christian England, at the present day, with all 
her intelligence, skill and benevolence, with the 
same land when under the sway of druidical su- 
perstition, and determine for yourselves what Chris- 
tianity has done for that country. Compare chris- 
tian New-England, with her valuable institutions, 
her sound principles, and her steady habits, with the 
morals and manners prevalent in that savage wilder- 
ness which our fathers subdued, and then judge 
what is the natural, genuine influence of the gospel. 



20 



It is to the religious institutions established by the 
first settlers of New-England, that we are indebted, 
not merely for whatever there is of piety and good 
morals among us, but likewise, in no small degree, 
for the possession of our civil immunities and our na- 
tional liberty. The pious and educated Pilgrims 
had hardly set foot on this bleak and desolate coast, 
when they planted the church and the school-house 
side by side, and as they grew in numbers, multi- 
plied them in every village. And what was the 
consequence? Virtue and knowledge sprung up 
together. A spirit of religion, of inquiry, and of 
freedom, went up by our mountains, and down by 
our vallies ; and to their efficacy, under God, are 
we indebted for our accumulated privileges and 
blessings. Yes. The influence of christian princi- 
ples and christian institutions on the prosperity, 
virtue, and happiness of New-England, has been 
greater than that of all the laws that fill the statute- 
book. — But the whole amount of these advantages 
and benefits can be discerned only by contrast. 
They cannot be duly appreciated by those who have 
always enjoyed them. They will be fully felt only 
when they are withdrawn. God, of his infinite 
mercy, avert from us that disastrous day, when our 
churches shall be closed, and our sabbaths profaned ! 
Abolish the sabbath, and you abolish Christianity. 
Abolish Christianity, and ignorance and barbarism 
will creep over the land like a leprosy. Iniquity 
and misery will bring up the train, and New-Eng- 



21 



land will become what Turkey is. Blessed be God, 
that we yet live in a land of sabbaths and of 
churches ! 

Such are some of the external, public, visible ef- 
fects of Christianity. But would you see her best, 
her loveliest fruits, you must enter the retirements 
of private life. You must sit down with a christian 
family at their fireside, and observe the power of 
the gospel in healing the wounds of affliction, and 
assuaging the pangs of bereavement. You must 
behold her despatching her willing votaries, like an- 
gels of mercy, to wait at the bedside of the poor, 
the sick and the dying ; providing for the widow ; 
gathering the orphans into an innocent and peace- 
ful asylum ; clothing the naked ; feeding the hungry ; 
and ministering timely and substantial relief to all 
the children of want and wo. When you have ob- 
served all this, and have moreover discovered by 
your own investigation, that not a tenth part of its 
blessed effects has been told you ; when you ob- 
serve how fitted it is to sooth the sorrows and re- 
lieve the infirmities of our common nature, will you 
not grant that it is adapted and worthy to become 
the faith of the whole world ? 

Christianity is likewise adapted to become a uni- 
versal religion, because it appeals immediately to 
the noblest part of our nature, and addresses man 
in his high capacity of an intelligent and rational 
being. Other religions have appealed to the lower 



22 



and weaker principles of his nature ; to his senses ; 
to his love of the marvellous ; to his fondness for 
show and parade ; and hence secret rites and mys- 
teries, imposing ceremonies and gorgeous specta- 
cles, have, in all ages and countries, constituted 
their principal and most attractive elements. But 
Christianity, being purely an intellectual and moral 
system, addresses itself to the understanding and the 
heart. It presents to man views of God, of duty, 
and of futurity, most sublime and comprehensive, 
and calls upon him to employ on them his highest 
faculties. It does not command him to prostrate 
his reason before an unintelligible and mystical 
creed, but submits all its pretensions and doc- 
trines to scrutiny and proof. Its spirit is the spirit 
of liberal inquiry and free discussion. The conse- 
quence has been, that in every age it has exercised 
and enlarged and strengthened the human mind, and 
that the Christians of every period, from the intro- 
duction of the gospel to the present time, have been 
the foremost and the most successful in cultivating 
the intellect, and enlarging the dominion of know- 
ledge. The Fathers of the church were many of 
them men of learning, and of deep and vigorous 
thought. Witness their Apologies in behalf of 
their adopted faith. When, too, an intellectual 
darkness shadowed the earth for ages, the little light 
that glimmered through the gloom, shone through 
the lattice of the cloister. The monastic institution 
was the great depository and guardian of the treas- 



23 



ures of literature as well as of revelation. It shield- 
ed from barbarian violence, and saved from natural 
decay, the classic as well as the evangelic records. 
By the patient hand of the christian monk were 
these precious documents transcribed and perpet- 
uated. And let it be remembered, that the revival 
of letters was coeval with, and derived no small de- 
gree of its impetus and energy, from the spirit of 
religious reformation, which was then beginning to 
work mightily. 

With the increase of knowledge and the advance 
of the human mind Christianity has always kept 
pace. The torch of science, however brilliant, has 
never dimmed the blaze of gospel light. The dis- 
coveries of philosophy have not falsified nor super- 
seded the truths of Christianity. For the greater 
the light of intellect and reason, the. more does 
Christianity reveal itself. The religion of Jesus is, 
indeed, the same yesterday, to-day, and forever. 
But the more the soul of man is enlightened and 
elevated, the more clearly does it discern the ex- 
cellency of its truths, and the more readily does it 
comprehend their nature and import. The time 
has never yet been when the gospel has been found 
to fall below the level of human science, or to lag 
behind in the general progress of intellectual cul- 
ture. On the contrary, it has always kept high 
above this level, and always led the van. It thus 
proves itself to have been designed and adapted to 
become universal in its operation ; since its spirit is 



24 



the spirit of advance and improvement, and since it 
dilates and unfolds itself perpetually to the constant- 
ly enlarging comprehension of the cultivated un- 
derstanding. 

As an illustration of my meaning, I will refer you 
to a single fact. The doctrine of the unity of God 
is one so obvious and simple, that it seems to sug- 
gest and recommend itself to the unaided reason 
of man. And yet, by some strange delusion or 
perversion of the human mind, no truth has been 
so much abused and corrupted. The Jews, to 
whom it was first expressly revealed, were always 
prone to polytheism, and often invaded the sov- 
ereignty of Jehovah by associating with him the gods 
of the heathen. The grand truth was again announc- 
ed, with great distinctness and energy, by Jesus 
Christ, in the revelation of which he was the minis- 
ter. And yet scarcely was his religion established, 
when this clear and simple doctrine was so modi- 
fied, and so obscured by the mists of a vain earthly 
philosophy, that the unlearned convert to Christiani- 
ty could hardly tell whether he ought to believe in 
One God or in Three. In those times, as Jortin 
shrewdly observes, ' it must needs have been a very 
learned, and a very subtile, and a very ingenious 
thing, to be a good christian.' This confusion and 
perplexity on the fundamental point of all religion, 
has prevailed and subsisted among the great body of 
Christians, even to the present day. Amid this 
general corruption, however, God has not left him- 



25 



self without witness. From time to time he has 
raised up confessors and martyrs to the glorious 
truth. Witness . the honored names of Priestley, 
Emlyn and Servetus. With the light of knowledge 
and the advance of mind, we behold this truth, which 
had been trampled down and despised, discerned 
and embraced by the sagacious and large intellects 
of a Newton, a Locke, and a Milton. We come 
down to our own times, and we find it daily gaining 
ground and gathering strength, numbering among 
its disciples the intelligent, the thoughtful, and the 
serious. For it is a truth which commends itself, 
with its associated principles, to the understanding 
and good sense of mankind ; and the time, it may 
be, is not far distant, (such is the rapid spread of 
light,) that the christian church will come to won- 
der that the self-contradictory doctrine of a divided 
and complex unity in the divine nature,- should ever 
have been numbered among its essential tenets. 
All this has been or will be effected by the progres- 
sive and expansive character of our religion, which so 
admirably adapts it to become a universal religion. 

The devout Christian will behold with gratitude 
and joy the prospect of the increased prevalence of 
the pure and undefiled gospel ; and his hope of its 
complete success and universal establishment will 
be confirmed, when he looks back upon its past 
triumphs and permanent effects. ' In the history 
of Christianity,' says an eloquent French writer,* 

* M. l'Abbe de la Mennais, Essai sur l'indifierence en matiere de religion. 

4 



26 



'nations commence and end. They pass, with 
their customs, their laws, their opinions, their sci- 
ences. One religion alone remains, always believ- 
ed, notwithstanding the interest which the passions 
have, not to believe it; always immovable in the 
midst of this rapid and perpetual movement ; always 
attacked, and always justified ; always sheltered from 
the changes which centuries bring upon the most 
solid institutions, the most accredited systems ; 
always the more astonishing and the more admired 
in proportion as it is the more examined ; the con- 
solation of the poor, and the sweetest hope of the 
rich ; the shield of the people, and the restraint of 
the magistrate ; the rule of the power which it mod- 
erates, and of the obedience which it sanctifies ; 
the great charter of humanity, in which eternal jus- 
tice, not willing that even crime should be without 
hope and without protection, stipulates for mercy 
in favour of repentance ; a religion as humble as it 
is profound, as simple as it is high and magnificent ; 
a religion which subjugates the most powerful gen- 
ius by its sublimity, and proportions itself, by the 
clearness of its light, to the most feeble intellect ; 
in fine, an indestructible religion, which resists every 
thing, triumphs over every thing ; over violence and 
contempt, over sophisms and scaffolds ; and, pow- 
erful in its antiquity, its victorious evidences, and its 
benefits, seems to reign over the human mind by 
right of birth, of conquest, and of love.' 

It is because the religion of Jesus is a universal 



27 



religion ; it is because he proclaimed, 6 1 am the 
light of the world,' and commissioned his apostles 
to go into all the world, and preach the gospel to 
every creature, that we, my hearers, at this time, 
are in the full possession of its light, and benefits. 
Had our Saviour narrowed his conception of the 
gospel, and confined it to his own nation or his own 
age, we might now have been involved in primitive 
barbarism and ignorance. Without the bright light of 
Christianity, our minds would have been shrouded in 
the darkness of heathen superstition. But for the 
assurance which the gospel affords, of the existence 
of an Almighty and Merciful Father, we of this free 
and happy land, might have been as abject and de- 
graded as the savage tribes which our fathers dis- 
placed, or as the barbarian islanders from whom 
they traced their descent. We might, on this very 
spot, long since consecrated to the worship of the 
One Living and True God, now be doing homage 
to some one of the many objects of Indian idolatry, 
or bowing ourselves down, in a senseless and sla- 
vish worship, to the uncouth images which our own 
hands had carved and fashioned. Were it not for 
the influence of the precepts and sanctions of this 
religion, our country would be a moral waste, and 
few, if any of us, would have the power to withstand 
the solicitations of sense, and subdue the risings of 
passion. Without its promises we should be hope- 
less; without its consolations cheerless. — With such 
views and feelings concerning our religion, and 



28 



looking forward with the eye of faith, and with a 
confidence built on the sure promise of God, to its 
wider diffusion, to its universal prevalence, who is 
there of us, my hearers, that does not rejoice that 
this day a new labourer is to be introduced into the 
vast field, who may do something to hasten this 
glorious consummation ? 

We stand, my hearers, on holy ground — on the 
spot consecrated by the labours and the prayers of 
the first Protestant minister who preached the glad 
tidings of salvation to the savage tribes of this west- 
ern wilderness. Yes, it was here that the venerable 
Eliot, by his disinterestedness and zeal in this hum- 
ble but arduous vocation, merited and acquired the 
honourable title of the Apostle to the Indians. The 
very spot on which we stand witnessed his toils, 
and was watered by his tears. It was here that he 
preached ; it was here that he often reposed after 
his fatiguing and perilous wanderings ; the same roof 
covering the sanctuary of God and the lowly couch 
of this holy man. It was on this ground that the 
first Indian church in America was gathered. Carry 
your thoughts back through a space of an hundred 
and seventy years, and in imagination you may be- 
hold the sons of the forest assembled here around 
the venerable Evangelist, and may hear the simple 
prayer of the untutored Indian offered up to the 
Great Spirit in the name of Jesus. 

The teacher and his converts have all passed away. 
The race of the red men has dwindled and at last 



29 



disappeared. The forests through which they once 
pursued their sports and hunted their game, have 
bowed before the axe of the settler, and are suc- 
ceeded by cultivated fields and pleasant farms. 
Yet though no living fruits of his labours remain, the 
name and the character of Eliot shall long be held 
sacred among us. It shall be perpetuated, we trust, 
by a regular ministry, which, after a long interval, 
is this day restored to this hallowed spot. It shall 
be perpetuated by this beautiful edifice that occu- 
pies the ancient site of his rude temple. Peace be 
within these walls ! For my brethren and compan- 
ions' sake I will now say, Peace be with you, and 
with the Pastor whom you have chosen 1 



THE CHARGE. 



BY THE REV. JAMES THOMPSON* 



MY DEAR SON, 

The solemn transactions of this occasion consum- 
mate the early desires of your heart, and fill mine 
with emotions too tender, too strong, and almost too 
overwhelming, for utterance. An important object of 
our mutual exertions, sacrifices and prayers, is this day 
attained. By the suffrages of this christian society, 
and your unrestrained consent, sanctioned by this 
Ecclesiastical Council, in those rites which apostol- 
ic usage justifies, and the order of our Congregational 
churches seems to require, you have been ordained 
a minister of Jesus Christ, and consecrated to the 
service of God in the gospel of his Son. By this act 
we pretend not to have communicated any new 
grace, or to have imparted any supernatural power ; 
nor yet do we assure you, that you hold your or- 
dination by an uninterrupted succession from the 
apostles. We do not claim the right either to pre- 
scribe the opinions you shall embrace, or to dictate 
what doctrines you shall preach. But, in imitation 
of apostolic example, and the immemorial usage of 



31 



our churches, this Council, acknowledging you as a 
fellow-labourer, would exhort and charge you, to 
approve yourself a good minister of Jesus Christ. 
They have constituted me their organ in this ser- 
vice. 6 Now the purpose of this Charge is love, 
out of a pure heart and a good conscience and faith 
unfeigned.' Receive it as from them, and let the 
channel through which it flows admonish you, that 
it comes with a deep, paternal and affectionate soli- 
citude for your good, and consequently demands a 
filial, docile and reverent attention. 

The letters of Paul to Timothy and Titus, written 
expressly for the purpose of teaching them and oth- 
ers the duties of the pastoral office, contain a com- 
pendium of duty. These you will frequently read, 
with serious attention and careful self-application. 
And in the language of the apostle I say to you 
* This very charge by the authority which belong- 
eth to me as a teacher, I entrust unto thee, my son, 
that thou mayest fight under it the good warfare, 
keeping to faith and a good conscience.' 

By your desire of the office of an overseer in the 
church, with which you have this day been invested, 
you have ' desired an honourable employment.' In 
this office then you must be 6 blameless, sober, re- 
spectable, a lover of hospitality, ready to teach, 
not greedy of dishonourable gains, but gentle, peace- 
able, no novice, lest you be puffed up, and so fall 
into blame from the accuser.' Let the desire to be a 
good minister of Jesus Christ be paramount to all 



32 



others. 'Nourish yourself up in the doctrines of the 
faith and those good instructions with which you are 
acquainted. Take care that no one despise thy 
youth, but make yourself a pattern to the believers 
in conversation, in behaviour, in love, in faith, in pu- 
rity. Exercise yourself in these things. Be wholly 
in them ; that your improvement in all things may be 
manifest. Attend to yourself and persevere in 
your doctrine.' — Take heed to yourself. Be jealous 
of your own heart, and often inquire what influence 
the truths which you preach to others have upon 
yourself. A deceitful heart has many treacherous 
arts by which it may impose upon us. And though 
the office and employment of a minister keep him out 
of the way of many temptations, to which other men 
are exposed, yet he is liable to many others of a 
different kind, which are no less dangerous. See 
that your heart be imbued with a deep, noiseless, 
practical piety. You will watch over yourself assid- 
uously, that your mind may be always in a suitable 
frame for exercising the duties of your function. 
Let your intercourse with men, like that of your 
Heavenly Master, be open and free, yet pure and 
instructive. Convince the most cheerful circles that 
whilst the christian minister can enjoy the decent 
and innocent pleasures of this life, his chief satisfac- 
tion springs from a higher and purer source. 

Whilst I exhort and charge you to be grave and 
sincere, I admonish you to avoid the sour and monk- 
ish grimace, so much affected by many at the pres- 



33 



ent day. To these gloom appears synonymous with 
gravity; and a sanctimonious aspect has, by some 
sects, been deemed an essential characteristic of the 
clergyman. The fountain of the natural affections 
is sealed, and all the tender, smiling emotions are 
frozen into the coldness of indifference. A fixed 
and stately morosity of countenance becomes the in- 
dex to feelings abstracted from the interests of men, 
and which are alike unsocial and unnatural. It is 
a narrow and jealous spirit, that stands back from 
the communities of the living, a frowning spectator 
of social and rational intercourse, which it construes 
into impiety. With distorted aspect it takes its stand 
in the circles of youth, and groans out its anathe- 
mas against the offspring of God. Let this cold and 
misanthropic spirit rest forever in the cloisters which 
it has reared, and let a kindlier temper mark the 
minister of Jesus. 

Gravity does not consist in the conversion of the 
human heart into stone, nor in a wo-worn counte- 
nance, nor in a voluntary seclusion from the abodes 
of men. No. It is a decent reserve, which unbends 
in the circles of friendship, and allows the feelings 
to mingle in the current of social and intellectual 
joy. It neither smiles on the sallies of malice and 
iniquity, nor frowns on the gaieties of innocence 
and youth. The example of our Saviour and his 
apostles is a full illustration of the nature of chris- 
tian gravity. They were grave, but not austere; 



5 



34 



devout, but not morose. They mingled in the 
societies of men with the feelings of men. 

Guided by the apostle, to gravity I charge you 
to add sincerity. You will remember, however, 
that by a frivolous levity, the most unsullied in- 
tegrity may fail of convincing others that you pos- 
sess this christian virtue. You may, therefore, be in 
danger of overacting in this particular, and the ap- 
prehension of being thought deficient in sincerity, 
may lead you, with the purest intentions, not only 
to an affectation of seriousness, but to the practice 
of obtruding religious conversation into all places 
and upon all occasions. Through a desire of pre- 
cluding distrust of your sincerity, you are cautioned 
not to pursue a course likely to establish a charac- 
ter for detestable hypocrisy. Christian sincerity 
requires no fictitious aids. On the contrary, it 
leaves you to what God and nature made you — 
man, with all his feelings and affections, interests 
and sensibilities, smiles and tears. If you feel, as 
you ought, 'the love of Christ constraining you,' 
your course will be alike distant from the giddy and 
trifling manner which betrays a thoughtlessness of 
the subject of religion, and that fastidious solicitude 
which frequently excites and always merits con- 
tempt by its officious and affected zeal. 

You will not give up your right to freedom of 
action in compliance with every prejudice and 
humour. * Yet is there a case in which it is doubtful 



35 



where the right ends and the bad begins, you will 
make every judicious person sensible that you are 
within the disputed limit. ' Sooner than be thought 
to offend against temperance, be abstemious ; against 
candour, suppress even innocent remarks upon 
character ; against decent gravity, avoid freedoms in 
themselves harmless. 

You are not only to take heed to yourself, but to 
your doctrine. This you are to draw from the pure, 
uncorrupt word of God. The Bible, and that alone, 
as a Protestant, you are charged to make the guide 
of your faith and practice, to the exclusion of all 
human creeds and formularies. I charge you never 
to incur the guilt of teaching for doctrines the com- 
mandments of men. Bring every system of faith to 
the law and the testimony, and receive or reject 
it as it agrees or disagrees with the inspired ora- 
cles. 

You will make it a primary object to gain a cor- 
rect understanding of the christian doctrine, in all 
its parts, and in their several connexions. As an in- 
terpreter of the christian scriptures, you will careful- 
ly attend to the scope of the passage, to the par- 
ticular object of the inspired writer, the occasion 
of his writing, and the circumstances of the persons 
addressed. Doing this, with a mind unbiassed by 
the spirit of party and open to conviction, you will 
discover and exhibit the truth in all its beautiful 
simplicity and admirable harmony. In interpreting 
the scriptures, you will adopt as a rule, ' that what 



36 



is difficult and obscure is to be explained by what 
is clear and intelligible.' Expounding a text which 
appears difficult, by the application of a rule or prin- 
ciple no better understood than the doubtful text, 
or by a gratuitous supposition, that has no founda- 
tion or support, has formed the basis of systems the 
most false and absurd. To build important doc- 
trines upon insulated and detached passages, and 
force the sacred writers to speak a language for- 
eign to their minds, and wrest the scriptures to ac- 
commodate preconceived systems, is to handle the 
word of God deceitfully ; against any approaches 
to which dreadful perversion I would most earnestly 
warn you. 

As an ambassador of Christ, you are not only to 
beseech men, in Christ's stead, to be reconciled to 
God, but to point out the necessity and means of 
becoming reconciled. The necessity of reconcilia- 
tion will be found in the alienation of the heart from 
the life of God ; in the prostration of reason to the do- 
minion of passion, and of the noblest faculties of the 
soul to .the service of sin ; and in the opposition of 
the will to the righteous authority of Heaven. 

The means of elfecting this reconciliation are 
contained in that book which you are to announce 
as a faithful transcript of the purposes of Deity, 
You are to consider that book true in a sense in 
which no other book is true. It is among books as 
the Saviour was among men. You are charged to 
preach the contents of that book which the Lion of 



/ 



37 



the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has honoured 
by unsealing. On its unfolded pages are delineated 
subjects the most momentous, sublime and magnifi- 
cent. In this holy book faith, repentance, and holi- 
ness are prescribed as the only effectual means of 
salvation ; and man, as a conscious, intelligent agent, 
is invited to become a coworker with God in promo- 
ting his benevolent design. Grasping your subject 
in all its vast extent, and wrought up by a sense of 
its infinite importance, to the highest pitch of men- 
tal and devotional fervour, you will come forth to 
your people to impart not the gospel of God only, 
but your own soul also. 

' Then nature speaks out 

Her genuine language — and the words of men, 
Big with the very motion of their souls, 
Declare with what accumulated force 
The impetuous nerve of feeling urges on 
The native weight and energy of things.' 

In the choice of your subjects for the pulpit, 
study to be useful. Do not entertain your hearers 
with mere declamation and jejune harangues ; but 
bring forth beaten oil for the lamps of the sanctua- 
ry- 

In your public services avoid the extremes of too 
great tediousness of length, which might savour of 
the pharisaic presumption of being heard for much 
speaking; and too much brevity, which might lead 
to the false supposition that an attendance on the 
mere forms of religion was sufficient. 

You will administer the ordinances of religion to 



38 



proper subjects. In the admission of members to 
communion, remember that your discretionary pow- 
er is limited, and that the extent of your negative to 
those that request it, if of good character, is ques- 
tionable. 

In visiting the sick, a tender and affectionate man- 
ner is recommended. In every case, I believe, 
even of stupidity and hardness of heart, an exhi- 
bition of the love of God, in the provisions and hopes 
of the gospel, described in feeling language, will 
sooner draw, than the terrors of the Lord drive, 
the sick and dying one to God and duty. 

'Thou therefore, my son, strengthen thyself in 
the gracious gospel of Christ Jesus, and what thou 
hast heard from me through many witnesses, com- 
mit to faithful men who will be able to teach others 
also. Do thou endure hardship, like a good soldier 
of Jesus Christ. Be faithful unto death, and Christ 
will give you the crown of life.' 

The ground on which you stand, in mute but 
impressive eloquence, charges you, 'be faithful.' 
It bids you remember the ardent love, the unpar- 
alleled patience, and the unquenchable zeal which 
have honoured and hallowed it. It bids you call to 
mind the fervent prayers, the solemn praises, and 
the devout thanksgivings, which long ago went up 
from hence to God. It bids you cherish the mem- 
ory of him who here first offered the gospel of 
peace, and opened the gates of the kingdom of 
heaven, to the rude children of the forest ; of him 



39 



whose sincerity and piety and philanthropy made 
even the untamed savage to feel and to exclaim, 
' How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of 
him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth 
peace.' For, my son, you are called, under Provi- 
dence, to minister in holy things, on the very spot 
where the sainted Eliot knelt and prayed ; where 
he united his untutored followers in the grateful 
worship of the God and Father of our Lord Jesus 
Christ. Let his example guide, instruct and en- 
courage you. No difficulties were too great for 
his perseverance to surmount. His attachment to 
the religion of his Master, and his desire for the 
wider diffusion of its influences, no obstacles could 
effectually oppose, no sacrifices in any degree abate. 
Be it so with you. 

And now, my dear son, with a heart impressed 
with the deepest paternal solicitude, and with de- 
vout and fervent prayer, I commend you to God. 
May he bless you with a long, happy and success- 
ful ministry; and under your only Master, the 
great Head of the church, may you be wise to win 
souls. In his dear and ever honoured name I bid 
you God speed. 



RIGHT HAND OF FELLOWSHIP. 



BY THE REV. LUTHER HAMILTON. 



To give you, my brother, the right hand on any 
occasion belonging to the intercourse of friendship, 
would be to me a pleasing service. To meet you 
here, and, as a minister of the gospel, to offer you 
the greetings of fraternal sympathy, affords me a 
higher pleasure than any common incident of social 
life could impart. For I know that to you, to this 
christian society, and to all whose prayers ascend to 
God for your future usefulness and happiness, this 
occasion is fraught with a peculiar, a sacred interest. 
The promises, the hopes, the anticipations which 
belong to it, reach far forward. They relate to all 
the chequered scenes of life that are before you ; to 
all the lights and shadows of your mortal pilgrimage ; 
and to that higher state of existence, which is the 
object of the holiest aspirations of the human soul. 
The ancient usage of giving the right hand on an 
occasion like this, cannot, therefore, seem to you an 
idle form or an inappropriate observance. For how 



41 



few events could more materially affect your social 
relations and duties, than the connexion which the 
services of this day are intended to solemnize. And, 
in what so deeply interests you, it cannot be deem- 
ed unsuited either to the social or religious sen- 
timents of your senior brethren in the ministry, that 
they should adopt this significant mode of expressing 
their sympathy. 

Under their direction, therefore, I give you, my 
brother, this right hand as a token of the sentiments 
of fellowship with which they welcome you to the 
field of your labours ; of the sincere fraternal regard 
which both your character and the new relation in 
which you stand to them are suited to awaken ; and 
of the pleasure with which they congratulate you on 
the bright prospects of usefulness which lie before 
you. I give it also as a pledge of cooperation, of 
aid, and of encouragement in all those cares, labors, 
and trials incident to the christian ministry, in which 
it may be possible and desirable that a brother's 
heart and hand should participate. Finally, I give 
it as an acknowledgment of your equality in official 
rights and authority with any other duly appointed 
minister of the New Testament, any other teacher 
of the religion of Christ. — By your acceptance of 
the hand thus offered with fraternal greetings, you 
promise a reciprocity of sentiment and conduct to- 
wards your fellow-laborers and brethren. Let not 
the hand which you have extended to me ever be 
withheld from the worthy. May Almighty God 



42 



bless you, my brother, and make your ministry useful 
and happy, and your preparation for the employ- 
ments and pleasures of immortality complete. 

BRETHREN OF THIS RELIGIOUS SOCIETY, 

Your christian brethren in various places, by 
their pastors and delegates, extend to you the right 
hand of fellowship. They offer their cordial con- 
gratulations on the hopes inspired by the promises 
of this day. They rejoice with you in the gift which 
you have received from the Head of the church, and 
in the brotherly love which has distinguished all your 
doings in relation to the settlement of a minister. 
Thus may your piety and charity ever evince that 
you are not only faithful hearers, but also doers of 
the word. Prove all things, and hold fast that 
which is good. Live in love, and the God of love 
and peace will be with you and bless you. 



i 



ADDRESS TO THE SOCIETY, 



BY THE REV. CHARLES BRIGGS. 



Seldom do we witness an occasion so impor- 
tant as the ordination of a christian minister. The 
connexion which is then formed, is one of pecu- 
liar interest and solemn obligation. It is of a sa- 
cred nature ; and the well-being and happiness of a 
community are in no small degree involved in it. 
The design of the pastoral office is, to dispense the 
truths, and disseminate the good influences, of the 
gospel. It aims to affect the heart and the life ; to 
elevate human character and improve human condi- 
tion ; to raise men above all that is low, earthly and 
sensual, to the dignity of intellectual and moral be- 
ings, to the sublime enjoyments and glorious hopes 
of the sons of God. By showing the connexion 
there is between character and condition, and hold- 
ing up to view the strongest possible motives to 
virtue and holiness, its purpose is to brighten the 
divine image in the soul, and ' make wise unto sal- 
vation.' Who, then, with a due sense of the value 



44 



of our holy religion, and of the influence of the 
christian ministry in promoting its great objects, can 
with feelings of indifference be present at an occasion 
like this ? Whose sympathies are not called forth 
towards those, who are more immediately interested 
in the events of this day? Who, in this house, does 
not spontaneously offer up a silent prayer to Hea- 
ven, that these transactions may be accompanied 
with the divine blessing, and lead to the happiest 
results ; may be the means of promoting the cause 
of truth and righteousness, and of advancing the in- 
terests of the Redeemer's kingdom 1 

The obligations of a minister and people are recip- 
rocal. Every duty which is required of him, implies 
a corresponding duty on their part. Suffer me then, 
my christian friends, the members of this religious 
society, to call your attention to some of the duties 
that result from the relation in which you stand to 
your pastor. 

The success of his ministerial labors will, in a great 
measure, depend on your cooperation. If you 
would act the part of faithful parishioners, would 
strengthen'his hands, and encourage his heart, and 
give efficacy to his exertions, you must regularly at- 
tend upon his public instructions. Regarding you 
all as his friends ; wishing from his soul, and labor- 
ing diligently, to advance your best interests ; per- 
haps growing pale over the midnight lamp, and pass- 
ing sleepless nights to prepare for you instructive 
and edifying discourses, he will expect to meet you 



45 



here on every returning sabbath. Now if you fre- 
quently, and, as he believes, needlessly, absent your- 
selves from public worship, it will wound his feel- 
ings, and throw discouragements in his way. He 
will infer that either his performances are not wor- 
thy of you, or that you are not worthy of them ; and 
that would give him pain. Or, what will still more 
afflict him, he will fear that you have fallen into a 
moral insensibility, and are indifferent to the subject 
of religion. Even if such instances of neglect are 
but few, he cannot view them with indifference. 
No ; — it will damp his ardour, paralyse his efforts, 
and lessen his usefulness among you. 

Whereas, if you duly appreciate the blessings of 
public worship, (and I doubt not that you will,) and, 
instead of leaving your empty seats to testify to your 
religious indifference, shall habitually frequent this 
sacred place, your presence will animate his exer- 
tions, cheer his heart, add fervour to his devotions, 
and render his labors comparatively light and pleas- 
ant. If he perceives that you place a high value on 
the institutions of religion, and believes that you are 
making advances in the christian life, it will be to 
him a rich source of consolation amidst the trials of 
his profession. It will be his best reward ; for he 
will then indulge the animating hope, that he has 
not spent his strength for nought, and that his labor 
has not been in vain in the Lord. 

Remember that while it is his duty to preach, it 
is your duty to hear, and wisely and faithfully to 



46 



use the means of religious improvement, which God 
has graciously provided for you. Come to this con- 
secrated place from principle, from a sense of du- 
ty, from the benevolent purpose of being bles- 
sings to those around you by the influence of your 
example, and from a sincere desire to advance your- 
selves in christian perfection. Yes ; — besides your 
obligations to your clergyman, let these motives ex- 
cite you to a constant attendance upon his ministra- 
tions. Let no trivial considerations, I entreat you, 
detain you at home on the sabbath, and deprive you 
of the inestimable blessings of religious instruction. 
Let nothing, whether it be the heat of summer, or 
the cold and snows of winter, whether it be slight in- 
disposition, or domestic engagements, whether pride 
in dress, or indolence and sloth, let nothing, I say, 
which would not prevent you from going abroad on 
secular pursuits, for gain or pleasure, or .to provide 
for the dispensable wants of the perishable part of 
your nature, prevent you from going to the house of 
God, to attend to the wants of your immortal souls. 

Besides a due regard to the apostolic injunction, 
of ' not forsaking the assembling of yourselves to- 
gether,' it will be your duty to ' take heed how you 
hear;' to resort here, not simply in obedience to 
custom, or to subserve some worldly purpose ; not 
to pass an idle hour, or to gratify a vain curiosity; 
but to hear the truths and imbibe the spirit of the 
religion you profess ; with an earnest desire to know 
and to do the will of your Father in heaven; to 



47 



cherish a sense of your dependence ; to pour forth 
your gratitude to the Giver of all good ; and to gath- 
er strength for the duties, the trials, and the tempta- 
tions of life. 

The instructions of the sanctuary will profit you 
but little, unless you attend to them with serious- 
ness and candor, and with a deep and solemn sense 
of their importance. If, whilst your bodies are 
here, your minds are far away upon the things of 
earth and time, upon your farms or your merchan- 
dize; or, if you attend here with a spirit of cavilling, 
or of cold and heartless criticism, those unholy fires 
which are not unfrequently lighted around the altars 
of our religion ; if, I say, you thus attend, the great 
objects of christian worship will be utterly defeated, 
and the voice that calls you to repentance and a 
holy life, may call to you in vain. 

Even in the time of our Saviour and his apostles, 
the success of the gospel, though dispensed with 
an eloquence and power, since unknown, depend- 
ed almost entirely upon the disposition of those to 
whom it was proclaimed. The instructive parable 
of the sower assures us of this, and teaches us that 
it is in the spiritual as in the natural world, that 
however good may be the seed, and however skilful 
the hand that sows it, if the ground is not prepared 
for its reception, it might as well be sown by the 
way-side, or scattered among the rocks. 

Every minister of the gospel should have the 
privilege of expressing freely and without reserve 



48 



his peculiar views of religion. In order to be use- 
ful and happy, he must feel an entire freedom on 
this subject. I do not say that subjects of contro- 
versy should be the burden of his preaching, or that 
they should often be brought before his hearers. But 
I do say, that he should feel under no restraint in 
discussing any of the doctrines of revelation. And 
I furthermore say, that common honesty requires of 
him an open avowal of his religious opinions. How 
unhappy must be the condition of that minister, who 
having never taught his people what to believe, finds 
them divided in their sentiments ; and in his preach- 
ing satisfies neither them nor his own conscience. 
Feeling, perhaps, the importance of those doctrines 
upon which he is silent; desirous that what he con- 
siders the truth should prevail, and yet fearing to 
raise his voice in her cause ; keeping back some of 
his opinions, lest he should give offence to a part 
of his hearers, and at the same time giving offence 
to others by this very concealment; he is in a situa- 
tion very unfavorable to the growth of mind or to 
growth in grace. I am at a loss to know how a 
minister of the gospel, with the common sensibilities 
of our nature, with that deep religious principle and 
sincerity of heart, which characterize every faithful 
servant of Christ, I say I am utterly at a loss to know 
how he can continue in such a situation, and live in 
such miserable bondage. To me almost any situa- 
tion would be preferable. Remove me from the so- 
ciety of my fellow beings, and with the testimony of 



49 



a good conscience, I might not be very unhappy. 
Nay, immure me in the deepest cell of a prison ; 
shut out from me the common objects of life, the 
common air and the common light of heaven, and 
put a chain on every limb ; still, my mind would be 
free, and my heart unshackled, and I might enjoy 
that liberty wherewith Christ has made us free. But 
place me in a situation like the one just described, 
where I should offend my people, offend my con- 
science, and offend my God, and, with the free use of 
my limbs, and in the exercise of all the rights and 
privileges of a free citizen in a free land, I should still 
be in servitude, in a state of mental and moral bon- 
dage. Into such a bondage God grant that your 
clergyman may never, by your conduct, be under 
the slightest temptation of falling. I hope and trust, 
for your sake as well as his, that you will never be 
disposed to lay him under any painful restraints in 
the disclosure of his religious sentiments. 

He enters upon the labors of the ministry here 
with the assurance that you are his friends ; and he 
will expect a cordial reception and a kind wel- 
come in every family and by every individual. He 
comes to you with every requisite qualification for 
the duties of his calling, and, as we believe, with 
the purest and the best of motives. He is to de- 
vote to you his time and talents, to spend the fresh- 
ness of his youth and the best of his strength in the 
cause of virtue, of truth and of righteousness among 
you. I am persuaded that he already feels a deep 
7 



50 



interest in your welfare, and will cultivate towards 
you the kindest feelings of his nature ; that it is the 
great purpose of his soul to do you good ; that his 
heart's desire and prayer to God is, that he may 
c come to you in the fulness of the blessing of the 
gospel of Christ,' and be the means of promoting 
your present and your everlasting welfare. Is it not 
then, my christian friends, incumbent on you to re- 
ciprocate his kindness and consult his welfare ; to 
treat him in all respects as a friend ; and, in the lan- 
guage of the apostle, to ' see that he be with you 
without fear,' and to ' esteem him very highly in love 
for his work's sake ? ' 

It will be the part of wisdom, as well as of duty, 
to do all in your power to make his situation com- 
fortable and pleasant; for he will by that means be 
the more useful to you. If there be a single imped- 
iment to his usefulness, a single care or anxiety that 
weighs upon his spirits, and you have it in your pow- 
er to alleviate or remove it, and yet leave him to 
struggle on unaided and alone, believe me, you will 
be by far the greatest sufferers ; for you will suffer 
in a spiritual point of view. And that you may at 
all times the better know his peculiar situation, his 
wants, cares, and trials, cultivate habits of familiar- 
ity with him. The more you are acquainted with 
him, and know of his duties, the more arduous you 
will find them ; and consequently you will be dis- 
posed to make every due allowance for his unavoid- 
able deficiences. You will exercise towards him 
more charity and more sympathy. 



51 



He will value highly your respect and friendship. 
Indeed without these he can be neither happy nor 
useful. And it will not be enough that you simply 
respect and esteem him. This respect and esteem 
must, in some way, be manifested, so as to con- 
vince him of their reality. Of what use would the 
sun be to your fields and gardens, if its genial influ- 
ences were not felt by them ; if its rays were with- 
held, and its warmth did not visit the earth 1 Would 
plants flourish and fruits ripen amidst cold and dark- 
ness, because the obscured and distant sun is not 
devoid of light and heat? And as little would your 
minister be animated and consoled in the discharge 
of his duties by that respect and affection, which are 
not manifested, and of the certainty of which he is 
in doubt, perhaps in ignorance. I do not mean that 
he will desire pecuniary proofs of your esteem and 
affection. No ; — he will value your regard and kind 
feelings more highly than your silver or gold ; and 
he will be satisfied with almost any method of ex- 
pressing them, whether it be that of a social visit or 
a friendly call, a kind word or a kind look. 

You will be desirous that his visits among you 
should be frequent. But when you reflect that the 
whole society have claims upon his time and atten- 
tions, and call to mind the multiplicity of his other 
duties, you need not doubt his friendship for you, and 
you ought not to harbour a prejudice against him, if 
you do not see him in your families so often as you 
could wish. If you are persuaded that he has that 



52 



general regard for you all, which a clergyman ought 
to have for his people ; if he visits you in seasons of 
trial and affliction, when his services are particularly 
needed ; and at other times as often as he can, con- 
sistently with his more indispensable duties ; do not 
complain. Be not so selfish as to wish for more of 
his society, when it might be at the expense of his 
usefulness, and of the highest good of your com- 
munity. 

Be tender of his reputation; and never suffer 
yourselves or others to speak evil of him, or cast re- 
flections upon him as a minister, or as a man. I can- 
not believe that he will ever so far depart from duty as 
justly to forfeit your esteem and confidence. You 
will, I trust, always put the most favorable construc- 
tion upon his conduct, view his imperfections with 
great lenity, and throw over them the broad mantle 
of christian charity, that charity which suffereth long, 
and is kind, and thinketh no evil. 

If he should ever forfeit his ministerial character, 
we ask no favor for him. Dismiss him at once. 
And if you should ever so far forget your duty to- 
wards him as to neglect his instructions, or show 
indifference to them, to treat him with coldness, or 
to withdraw from him that respect and attention 
which are his due ; it would break down his ambition, 
and check the noblest aspirations of his soul. The 
sensibilities of his kind heart and generous nature 
could not long endure it. It would weigh upon his 
spirits. It would kill him. No ; — he would, with a 



53 



mingled feeling of grief and pity, I will not say- 
break the tender ties which bind a faithful clergy- 
man to a worthy people, for they will have been al- 
ready broken ; — he would leave you, and go among 
those who would better appreciate his merits, show 
him kindness, and rejoice in the light of his instruc- 
tions. I do not say this from the least suspicion that 
you will ever treat him thus. No ; — I firmly believe 
that you will faithfully and conscientiously discharge 
your duties to him ; and will do all in your power 
to promote his usefulness and his happiness. 

I am forcibly reminded that the place on which 
we stand is memorable in the ecclesiastical history 
of New-England, as the spot where the apostolic 
Eliot proclaimed the glad tidings of the gospel to 
the savages of the wilderness. The history of that 
faithful servant of Christ is instructive. And whilst 
your clergyman, by reflecting upon his virtues, his 
disinterested labors and his spirit of self-sacrifice ; 
by calling to mind how often, along the banks of your 
river, and among your beautiful hills, he passed from 
cabin to cabin as a minister of consolation, and a 
herald of peace ; that so much was he devoted to 
the cause of his Master, and the moral improvement 
of those rude children of the forest, that he often 
partook of their coarse fare, passed whole nights in 
their open habitations, and slept on the hard earth, 
regardless of cold and storms ; while, I say, your 
clergyman will be excited to duty by the example 
of his worthy and far-famed predecessor, you may 



54 



be instructed, and reminded of your duties to him, 
by reflecting, that even savage bosoms were not in- 
sensible to kindness ; that the parishioners of Eliot, 
untutored as they were, gave frequent proofs of 
their sense of obligation ; that they consulted his wel- 
fare, and daily performed towards him kind and 
friendly offices. The sight of those trees, which 
were planted by their affection around his humble 
dwelling, cannot, I should think, fail of teaching you 
a lesson of kindness to your minister. 

Reflect, my friends, upon the interesting relation in 
which he now stands to you. Your offspring he 
will here consecrate to the Father of our spirits. 
Here he will break to you the bread of life, dispense 
the offers of salvation, and beseech you, in Christ's 
stead, to be reconciled to God. In your prosperity, 
he will rejoice with you. And in adversity, he will 
be with you to impart his sympathy, and to raise 
your thoughts above the darkness that surrounds 
you. Yes ; — -when the tenderest relations of life 
are severed, when death has laid his cold hand on 
an object most dear to your souls, and there is a 
painful void in your bosoms which the world cannot 
fill ; — in seasons like this, he will feel with you and 
for you. His voice will calm the troubled spirit, 
and console the broken heart. He will direct your 
views beyond the wastes of mortality and the rava- 
ges of the tomb, to a brighter, happier world, where 
all tears will be wiped away, where sorrow and 
death can never enter, and where friends will meet, 



55 



to part no more. — In the chamber of sickness, too, 
when your wasted strength and the countenances of 
your friends admonish you of your approaching 
dissolution, and the realities of eternity seem near; 
in that dark and trying hour, many of you will feel 
the friendly pressure of his hand, and see over you 
his anxious and affectionate countenance. He will 
then be with you to dispel your needless fears, to 
animate your christian hopes, to prepare you for the 
last conflicts of nature, and smooth your passage to 
the grave. — And over your lifeless forms, his prayers 
will ascend to the God of all grace and consolation, 
in behalf of the weeping friends you will leave be- 
hind you ; and he will follow you as a mourner, yes, 
as a sincere mourner, to that narrow house appoint- 
ed for all the living. 

Is not he, let me ask, who sustains such intimate 
and interesting relations towards you; whose in- 
structions will exert an influence over your present 
and your future condition ; is not he entitled to your 
respect, your esteem, your kindness ? He is. Be, 
then, to him a blessing, and he will be a richer bles- 
sing to you. Remember that nothing will so much 
rejoice his heart as to see you walking in the truth, 
cherishing the love of God, growing in grace, and 
in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus 
Christ. 



APPENDIX. 



JOHN ELIOT, 

THE APOSTLE TO THE AMERICAN INDIANS. 
' Not a whit behind the very chiefest apostles.' 

It was thought that some account of the life and labors of the 
venerable Eliot, might not be uninteresting to the readers of the 
preceding Discourse. In compiling the following sketch, free use has 
been made of Mather's Magnalia, Neal's History of New-England, 
Gookin's Historical Collections of the Indians in New-England, Dr 
John Eliot's Historical Account, and the Collections of the Massachu- 
setts Historical Society. A. Y. 

John Eliot, commonly called the Apostle to the Indians, ex- 
hibited more lively traits of an extraordinary character than we 
find in most ages of the church, or in most christian countries. 
He, who could prefer the American wilderness to the pleasant 
fields of Europe, was ready to wander through this wilderness for 
the sake of doing good. To be active was the delight of his soul ; 
and he went to the hovels which could not keep out the wind and 
rain, where he labored incessantly among the Aborigines of 
America, though his popular talents gave him a distinction among 
the first divines of Massachusetts, at a time that the magistrates 
and all the people held the clergy in peculiar honor. 

He was born in England, in 1604, and was educated at the 
University of Cambridge. 'He came to New-England' says Cot- 
ton Mather, 'in the month of November, 1631, among those 
blessed old Planters, who laid the foundations of a remarkable 
country, devoted unto the exercise of the Protestant religion, in 
8 



58 



its purest and highest reformation. He listed himself among 
those valiant soldiers of the Lord Jesus Christ, who cheer- 
fully encountered first the perils of the Atlantic Ocean, and then 
the fatigues of the New-English wilderness, that they might have 
an undisturbed communion with him in his appointments here.' * 
He was settled as Teacher of the church in Roxbury, Nov. 5, 
1632. * 

His labors, however, were not confined to his own people. 
Having imbibed the true spirit of the gospel, his heart was touch- 
ed with the wretched condition of the Indians, and h^became ea- 
gerly desirous of making them acquainted with the glad tidings of 
salvation. When he began his mission, there were about seven- 
teen or twenty tribes within the limits of the English planters. 
But these tribes were not large, and hardly to be distinguished ; 
for their manners, language and religion were the same. The 
first thing he did was to learn the Massachusetts language, so as 
to be able to preach to the natives without the medium of an in- 
terpreter. For this purpose an Indian, who could speak English, 
was taken into his family, and by conversing freely with him, he 
learned to speak it. 

' Behold/ says Cotton Mather, ' new difficulties to be surmount- 
ed by our indefatigable Eliot ! He hires a native to teach him 
this exotic language, and with a laborious care and skill reduces 
it into a Grammar, which afterwards he published. There is 
a letter or two of our alphabet which, the Indians never had in 
theirs. But if their alphabet be short, I am sure the words com- 
posed of it are long enough to tire the patience of any scholar in 
the world. One would think they had been growing ever since 
Babel, unto the dimensions to which they are now extended. 
For instance, if my reader will count how many letters there are 
in this one word, Nummatchekodtantamooonganunnonash, when he 
has done, for his reward I'll tell him, it signifies no more in Eng- 
lish than ' our lusts ; ' and if I were to translate ' our loves, ' it 
must be nothing shorter than Noowomantammooonlcanunonnash. 
Or, to give my reader a longer word than either of these, Kum- 

* Mather's Magnalia, Book III. pp. 173, 175. 



59 



inoghodonattoottummoootiteaongannunnonash, is in English, ' our 
question.' But I pray, sir, count the letters ! I know not what 
thoughts it will produce in my reader, when I inform him, that 
once finding that the demons in a possessed young woman, un- 
derstood the Latin, Greek and Hebrew languages, my curiosity 
led me to make trial of this Indian language, and the demons 
did seem as if they did not understand it. This tedious language 
our Eliot quickly became a master of.'* 

Having thus prepared himself for his work, he began to preach 
to the neighbouring Indians. The place where he commenced 
his labors, was Nonantum, f near Watertown mill, upon the south 
side of Cjharles river, about four or five miles from his own house. 
Thither he went on the 28th of October, 1646, accompanied by 
three others, having previously informed the natives of his desire 
to instruct them in the christian faith. The following is Eliot's 
own account of his first interview. 

' A little before we came to their wigwams, five or six of the chief 
men of them met us with English salutations, bidding us much wel- 
come. Leading us into the principal wigwam, belonging to Wa- 
aubon, we found many men, women and children gathered to- 
gether from all quarters ; having been exhorted thereto by Waaubon, 
their chief minister of justice among them. We began with prayer, 
which now was in English, we being not so far acquainted with the 
Indian language as to express our hearts therein before God or 
them. We hope to be able to do this ere long ; the Indians de- 
siring it that they also may know how to pray. When prayer 
was ended, it was an affecting and glorious spectacle, to see a 
company of perishing and forlorn outcasts diligently attending to 
the blessed word of salvation then delivered, and professing that 
they understood all that was taught them in their own tongue. 

* Mather's Magnalia, Book III. p. 193. 

t This place is supposed to be the hill at the north-east corner of Newton, on 
which Messrs. Haven's and Wiggin's houses now stand. See Homer's Hist, 
of Newton, in Mass. Hist. Collect. Vol. V. p. 256, and Moore's Memoirs of 
Eliot, p. 21. This last work is an interesting and valuable compilation. It 
contains more facts relative to the labors of Eliot, than can be found in any 
single publication. 



60 



For about an hour and a quarter the sermon was continued ; 
wherein one * of our company ran through all the principal mat- 
ters of religion ; beginning first with a repetition of the ten com- 
mandments, and a brief explication of them ; and so applying the 
whole unto the condition of the Indians then present with much 
affection. He then preached Jesus Christ to them ; and explain- 
ed to them who Christ was. He spake to them of the blessed 
state of those who believe in Christ and know him feelingly; and 
then urged them to repentance for several known sins wherein 
they live. 

' Having thus, in a set discourse, familiarly opened the princi- 
pal matters of salvation to them, we next proposed certain ques- 
tions, to see what they would say to them ; so that we might by a 
variety of means instruct them in the things of religion. But, 
before we did this, we asked them if they understood all that 
which was already spoken ; and whether all of them in the wig- 
wam did understand, or only some few. They answered to this 
question, with a multitude of voices, that they all of them under- 
stood all that which was spoken unto them. We then desired to 
know of them if they would propose any question to us for the 
more clear understanding of what was delivered. Whereupon 
several of them propounded presently several questions. 

' These things were spoken by him who had preached to them, 
in their own language ; borrowing, now and then, some small helps 
from the interpreter, whom we had brought with us, and who 
could oftentimes express our minds more distinctly than we could 
ourselves. But this we perceived, that a few words from the 
preacher were more regarded than many from the Indian inter- 
preter. 

1 After three hours' time thus spent with them, we asked them 
if they were not weary, and they answered, No. But we resolved 
to leave them with an appetite. The chief of them seeing us con- 
clude with prayer, desired to know when we would come again ; 
so we appointed the time ; and having given the children some 
apples, and the men some tobacco and what else we then had at 

* Undoubtedly Mr Eliot himself. 



61 



hand, they desired some more ground to build a town on togeth- 
er ; which we did much like of, promising to speak for them to 
the General Court, that they might possess all the compass of that 
hill upon which their wigwams then stood ; and so we departed 
with many welcomes from them.' 

On the 11th of November, they gave the Indians another meet- 
ing by appointment, and found a larger company met together 
than before. Mr Eliot began with the children, and after cate- 
chising them, preached about an hour to the whole company. 
They then spent several hours in answering questions proposed 
by the Indians. The following are Mr Eliot's own remarks on 
this interview. 

< Thus I have, as faithfully as I could remember, given you a 
true account of our beginnings with the Indians within our bounds ; 
which cannot but furnish matter of serious thought what further 
to do with these poor natives, the dregs of mankind, and the sad- 
dest spectacles of misery of mere men upon earth. We did think 
to forbear going to them this winter, but this last day's work, 
wherein God set his seal from heaven of acceptance of our little, 
makes those of us who are able, to resolve to adventure through 
frost and snow, lest the fire go out of their hearts for want of a 
little more fuel ; to which we are the more encouraged, in that the 
next day after being with them, one of the Indians came to his 
house who preached to them to speak with him ; who in private 
conference wept exceedingly, and said all that night the Indians 
could not sleep, partly with trouble of mind, and partly with won- 
dering at the things which they heard preached among them ; 
another Indian coming also to him the next day after, told him 
how many of the wicked Indians began to oppose these begin- 
nings. 

'Some hours having been thus passed with them, Mr. Eliot ask- 
ed, " what do you remember of what was taught you since the last 
time we were there ? " After they had spoken one to another 
for some time, one of them returned this answer, that they did 
much thank God for our coming, and for what they heard ; they 
were wonderful things unto them.' * 

* See Note, at the end of the Appendix. 



62 



On the 26th of the same month they met the Indians a third 
time ; but the company was not so numerous as before, because 
the Powaws, or priests, had dissuaded some from coming to hear 
the English ministers, and deterred others by threatening them 
with death. Those that were present, however, appeared very 
serious, and seemed to be touched with Mr Eliot's sermon. Two 
or three days after this meeting, Wampas, a wise and grave In- 
dian, with two of his companions, came to the English and 
brought his son and three other Indian children, begging that 
they might be educated in the christian faith. At the next meet- 
ing, which took place on the 9th of December, all that were pres- 
ent offered their children to be instructed by the English; who, 
therefore, resolved to set up a school among them. In May, 1647, 
the General Court of Massachusetts, at Mr Eliot's request, gave 
the Indians in that neighbourhood, some land to build a town up- 
on, which they called Noonatomen, or Noonanetum, that is, Re- 
joicing. 

While these things were doing at Noonatomen, the Indians 
about Concord expressed their desires of being civilized and re- 
ceiving the christian faith ; and begged Mr Eliot to come and 
preach to them. Within a short time, too, after his first attempt, 
he set up another lecture at a place called Neponsett, within the 
bounds of Dorchester, about four miles from his house southward. 
Mr. Eliot" continued to preach these two lectures at Nonantum 
and Neponsett for several years with good success. * 

But Mr Eliot's labours were not confined to one or two places. 
He travelled into all parts of the Massachusetts and Plymouth 
colonies, even as far as Cape Cod and Martha's Vineyard, offer- 
ing to preach to as many of the sachems and their subjects as 
would hear him. ' Having entered upon the teaching of these poor 
creatures, it is incredible,' says Mather, ' how much time, toil, 
and hardship he underwent in the prosecution of this undertaking ; 
how many weary days and nights rolled over him; how many 
tiresome journeys he endured ; and how many terrible dangers 
he had experience of. If you briefly would know what he felt, 

* Neal, Hist. N. Eng. I. 247. Mass. Hist. Coll. I. 169. 



63 



and what carried him through all, take it in his own words in a 
letter to the honorable Mr Winslow ; " I have not been dry, night 
nor day, from the third day of the week unto the sixth, but so trav- 
elled, and at night pull off my boots, wring my stockings, and on 
with them again, and so continue. But God steps in and helps. 
I have considered the word of God in 2 Tim. ii. 3. Endure hard- 
ships as a good soldier of Jesus Christ." '* 

He usually went once a fortnight on his evangelical mission, 
though he knew that several of the Indian princes and priests 
had often plotted his destruction, and would certainly have put him 
to the most tormenting death, if they had not been awed by the 
power and strength of the English colonies. They looked upon 
Mr Eliot as a man who designed to overturn their civil as well as 
religious policy. The prince was jealous of his prerogative, and 
the priest of his gain, and so both joined together to hinder the 
progress of the new doctrines. Innumerable were the affronts that 
he met with in his missionary work. Sometimes the sachems 
would thrust him out from among them, telling him that if he 
came again, it should be at his peril. But his usual reply was, 1 1 
am about the work of the great God, and my God is with me ; so 
that I fear neither you nor all the sachems in the country. I '11 
go on, and do you touch me, if you dare ! ' f 

'Notwithstanding all these discouragements, the christian re- 
ligion began to obtain in several parts of the country. The 
new converts were distinguished by the name of the Praying In- 
dians, who as soon as they had renounced their old religion, aban- 
doned their wild and barbarous way of living. A considerable 
body of them combined together in the year 1651, and built a 
town by the side of Charles river, which they called Natick. It 
consists of three long streets, two on this side the river, and one 
on that, with house-lots to every family. There is one large house 
built after the English manner. The lower room is a large hall, 
which serves for a meeting-house on the Lord's day, and a school- 
house on the week-days. There is a large canopy of matts raised 

* Mather's Magnalia, Book HI. p. 196. 

t Neal, I. 249, et sqq. Mather, Book III. 198. 



64 



upon poles for Mr Eliot and his company ; and other sort of cano- 
pies for themselves and other hearers to sit under, the men and 
women being placed apart. The upper room is a kind of ward- 
robe, where the Indians hang up their skins, and other things of 
value. In a corner of this room Mr Eliot has an apartment par- 
titioned off, with a bed and bedstead in it. There is likewise a 
handsome large fort, of a round figure, palisadoed with trees, and 
a foot-bridge over the river, in form of an arch, the foundation of 
which is secured with stone, with several little houses after the 
English fashion. ' * 

Eliot thus describes the building of the first Indian church at 
Natick. ' We must of necessity have a house to lodge and meet in, 
and wherein to lay our provisions and clothes, which cannot be in 
wigwams. I set the Indians, therefore, to fell and square tim- 
ber ; and when it was ready, I went and many of them with me, 
and on their shoulders carried all the timber together. 5 

The new converts continued several years under the character 
of catechumens, all which time they were visited by Mr Eliot or 
some other divine every week. At length the first Indian church 
was formed at Natick, in the year 1660. ' From this church and 
town of Natick,' says Gookin, ' have issued forth, as from a sem- 
inary of virtue and piety, divers teachers that are employed in 
several new praying towns.' f 

But Mr Eliot's care of the new converts was not confined to his 
own personal instruction. He therefore took an ingenious In- 

* Neal, I. 553. He quotes from a tract, entitled, ' Manifestation of the fur- 
ther progress of the gospel in N. See Note at the end of the Appendix. 

f Hist. Coll. I. 183. The eccentric John Dunton, a London bookseller, who 
visited Boston on business, in the year 1685, gives a pleasant account of a jour- 
ney he made to Natick. After visiting Mr Eliot at Roxbury, who presented 
him with twelve Indian bibles, he says, 1 On my return I found several of my 
friends making ready for a journey to Natick. I was glad of the opportunity 
to acquaint myself with the manners, religion and government of the Indians. 
When we were setting forward, I was forced, out of civility and gratitude, to 
take madam Brick behind me on horseback. It is true she was the flower of 
Boston, but in this case proved no more than a beautiful sort of luggage to me.' 
Further particulars may be found in his Life and Errors, Vol. I. pp. 115 — 123, 
or Hist. Coll. II. 108—115. 



65 



dian, named Monequessun, into his house ; and having taught him 
to read and write, made him schoolmaster at Natick. Some of 
the Indians, who had a genius for learning, were admitted into 
Harvard College, and had a liberal education bestowed upon 
them, whereby their congregations were quickly furnished with 
ministers of their own. * 

It is no wonder after all this, that Mr Eliot was in high esteem 
among the new converts ; that they consulted him as their oracle 
in all difficult cases ; that they loved him as their very lives, and 
would run all hazards to serve him. He really deserved well of 
them, for no man ever took such true pains in the missionary 
work as himself ; his name therefore will be mentioned with hon- 
or, as long as there is a christian Indian in the world. 

Eliot certainly was the most successful missionary that ever 
preached the gospel to the Indians. His prudence and zeal, his 
patience, resolution, activity, and knowledge of mankind, were 
equally conspicuous. Many have done worthily in this benevo- 
lent work ; but, if we unite an apt method of applying the truths 
of Christianity to the minds of the heathen, with the success of his 
labors, he far excelled them all. He likewise claims a very pe- 
culiar character, as being the first Protestant minister who diffu- 
sed the beams of evangelical truth among the wild nations of this 
benighted part of the globe. The tribes that roamed through the 
deserts became dear to him, like his own people, and he often for- 
sook the charms of civilized and cultivated society, to reside with 
men, who were not only unacquainted with every thing called 
urbanity, but who wanted comfortable means of subsistence; with 
whom he would associate days and weeks, to instruct them in di- 
vine things, and also acquaint them how they could improve their 
condition upon the earth. He partook with them their hard fare, 
with locks wet with the dews of the night, and exposed to attacks 
from the beasts of the forest. 

* A brick building was erected at Cambridge for their use, and called the In- 
dian College. Only one native took his degree. His name was Caleb Chees- 
hahteaumuck. He was graduated in 1665. 



9 



66 



We come now to speak of that great and laborious undertaking, 
his Translation of the whole Bible into the Indian language. The 
New Testament was published Sept. 5, 1661, and dedicated to 
Charles II. The Old Testament was published in 1663. A 
second edition of the New Testament appeared in 1680, and of 
the Old in 1685. 

' Behold, ye Americans,' exclaims Cotton Mather ( the great- 
est honor that ever you were partakers of! This Bible was print- 
ed here at our Cambridge ; and it is the only Bible that ever was 
printed in all America, from the very foundation of the world. 
The whole translation he writ with but one pen ; which pen, 
had it not been lost, would have certainly deserved a richer case 
than was bestowed upon that pen with which Holland writ his 
translation of Plutarch. The Bible being justly made the leader 
of all the rest, a little Indian library quickly followed ; for, besides 
Primers and Grammars, and some other such composures, we had 
the " Practice of Piety" in the Indian tongue, and the Reverend 
Richard Baxter's " Call to the Unconverted." He also translated 
some of Mr Shepard's composures; and such catechisms likewise, 
as there was occasion for. It cannot but be hoped that some fish 
were to be made alive, since the waters of the sanctuary thus 
came unto them.' * 

The completion of his Translation of the Bible, was a subject 
of deep interest to our venerable Evangelist, as may be seen from 
the following extracts from his letters to the celebrated Robert 
Boyle, Governor of the Corporation in England for propagating 
the gospel among the Indians, f 

'Our praying Indians are numerous; thousands of souls beg, 
cry, entreat for Bibles. — The great work that I travel about is the 
printing of the Old Testament, that they may have the whole Bi- 
ble. I desire to see it done before I die, and I am so deep in 
years, that I cannot expect to live long. I have added some part 
of my salary to keep up the work. — My age makes me importu- 
nate. I shall depart joyfully, may I but leave the Bible among 

* Mather's Magnalia, Book III. 197. 

t These letters are in the third volume of the Hist. Coll. pp. 177 — 188. 



67 



them. — I am deep in years, and sundry say, if I do not procure 
it printed while I live, it is not within the prospect of human rea- 
son, whether ever, or when, or how, it may be accomplished. 
The work goeth on, I praise God. — The Bible is come forth, 
many hundreds bound up, and dispensed to the Indians. I am 
old, ready to be gone, and desire to leave as many books as I can.' 

In 1666, he published 'The Indian Grammar begun, or an es- 
say to bring the Indian language into rules.' * At the end of 
this work, he says, ' I have now finished what I shall do at pres- 
ent ; and in a word or two to satisfy the prudent inquirer how I 
found out these new ways of grammar, which no other learned 
language (so far as I know) useth ; I thus inform him. God first 
put into my heart a compassion over their poor souls, and a de- 
sire to teach them to know Christ, and to bring them into his 
kingdom. Then presently I found out (by God's wise providence) 
a pregnant-witted young man, who had been a servant in an Eng- 
lish house, who pretty well understood his own language, and 
hath a clear pronunciation ; him I made my interpreter. By 
his help I translated the commandments, the Lord's prayer, and 
many texts of scripture. Also I compiled both exhortations and 
prayers by his help. I diligently marked the difference of their 
grammar from ours ; when I found the way of them, I would 
pursue a word, a noun, a verb, through all variations I could think 
of. And thus I came at it. We must not sit still and look for 
miracles. Up, and be doing, and the Lord will be with thee. 
Prayer and pains, through faith in Christ Jesus, will do any thing. 
Nil tarn difficile quod non — I do believe and hope that the gos- 
pel shall be spread to all the ends of the earth, and dark corners 
of the world, by such a way, and by such instruments as the 
churches shall send forth for that end and purpose. Lord, hasten 
those good days, and pour out that good spirit upon thy people. 
Amen.' t 

* This has been republished with Introductory Observations by John Pick- 
ering, Notes and Observations by Peter S. Duponceau, and Supplementary 
Observations by Mr. Pickering, in Hist. Coll. Vol. IX. 2d series, p. 223. 

t Hist. Coll. IX. 312, second series. 



68 



We sometimes hear the inquiry made as to the correctness 
and value of Eliot's Grammar and Translation of the Bible. The 
best answer to this inquiry may be found in the words of one 
of the very few who are competent to form an opinion on the sub- 
ject — the celebrated philologist, Duponceau : — 

' This great and good man [Eliot] did not foresee, when he 
wrote his Indian Grammar, that it would be sought after and 
studied by the learned of all nations. The Augustine of New 
England had no object in view, but that which he expresses 
in his title page — ' the help of such as desired to learn the Indian 
language for the furtherance of the gospel among the natives.' 
But that worldly fame, which he did not seek, awaited him at the 
end of two centuries ; and his works, though devoted to religion 
alone, have become important sources of human learning. 

' This Translation of the Bible by our venerable Eliot is a rich 
and valuable mine of Indian philology. A complete grammar 
and dictionary might, with labour and perseverance, be extracted 
from it ; for there is hardly a mode or figure of speech, which is 
not to be found somewhere in the sacred writings. It has been 
of great use to me in the investigation of the character and struc- 
ture of the American languages, and I hope to derive still further 
benefit from it. Every copy of it, that is yet extant, ought to be 
preserved with the greatest care, as it is hardly to be hoped that 
it will ever be entirely reprinted.' * 

Another eminent linguist, Mr. Pickering, says, ' The Indian 
Grammar of this indefatigable man possesses great merit in ma- 
ny respects/ 

( His way of preaching,' says Mather, ' was very plain ; so that 
the very lambs might wade into his discourses on those texts and 
themes wherein elephants might swim.' f 

' He that will write of Eliot,' says Mather, ' must write of char- 
ity, or say nothing.' He gave largely from his own income to the 
poor, and promoted all kinds of useful distributions, especially if he 

* Notes on Eliot's Indian Grammar, in Hist. Coll. IX. second series, 
f Mather's Magnalia, Book III. 185. 



69 



could serve the cause of religion. When his age unfitted him for 
public employment, he reflected that he did good as he had opportu- 
nity. ' Alas ! ' said he, ' I have lost every thing. My understanding 
leaves me, my memory fails me, my utterance fails me, but I thank 
God my charity holds out still. ' So great was his charity, that his 
salary was often distributed for the relief of his needy neighbours, 
so soon after the period at which he received it, that, before another 
period arrived, his own family were straitened for the comforts of 
life. One day the parish treasurer, on paying the money for sal- 
ary due, which he put into a handkerchief, in order to prevent 
Mr Eliot from giving away his money before he got home, tied 
the ends of the handkerchief in as many hard knots as he could. 
The good man received his handkerchief, and took leave of the 
treasurer. He immediately went to the house of a sick and ne- 
cessitous family. On entering, he gave them his blessing, and 
told them God had sent them some relief. The sufferers, with 
tears of gratitude, welcomed their pious benefactor, who, with 
moistened eyes, began to untie the knots in his handkerchief. 
After many efforts to get at his money, and impatient at the per- 
plexity and delay, he gave the handkerchief and all the money to 
the mother of the family, saying, with a trembling accent, ' Here, 
my dear, take it ; I believe the Lord designs it all for you. 5 * 

Eliot died in the year 1690, at the advanced age of 86. Few 
of his family were alive to lament his death ; but he was lamented 
by the whole family of virtue, and by all the sincere friends of re- 
ligion. The poor church at Natick not only joined with those 
who dropped a tear upon his dust, but streams of sorrow flowed 
from the heart. Though he lived many years, they were filled 
with usefulness; succeeding generations mentioned his name 
with uncommon respect ; his labors were applauded in Europe 
and America ; and all who now contemplate his active services, 
his benevolent zeal, his prudence, his upright conduct, his chari- 
ty, are ready to declare his memory precious. Such a man will 
be handed down to future times, an object of admiration and love; 
and appear conspicuous in the historic page when distant ages 
celebrate the worthies of New-England. 

* Hist. Coll. X. 186. 



70 



* If the dust of dead saints,' says Mather, ' could give us any 
protection, we are not without it. Here is a spot of American 
soil, that will afford a rich crop of it at the resurrection of the 
just. Poor New-England has been, as Glastenbury of old was 
called, a burying-place of saints. But we cannot see a more 
terrible prognostic than tombs filling apace with such bones as 
those of the renowned Eliot's. The whole building of this 
country trembles at the fall of such a pillar.' * 

The famous Richard Baxter, in a letter to Increase Mather, says, 
' 1 knew much of Mr. Eliot's opinions by many letters which I 
had from him. There was no man on earth whom I honored 
above him. It is his evangelical work that is the apostolical suc- 
cession that I plead for.' t 

The Indian town of Natick was formed in 1651. A church 
was gathered in 1660. It was incorporated into an English dis- 
trict, in 1761, and into a town, in 1781. After Mr Eliot's death, 
the Indian church dwindled away. The Rev. Mr Gookin, of 
Sherburne, son of Gen. Gookin, however, bestowed his pious 
cares upon it. In 1674, the teachers were Anthony and John 
Speen, grave and pious men. The pastor of the church in 1687 
was an Indian, named Daniel. In 1721, Mr Peabody went to 
Natick as a missionary. He was ordained Oct. 21, 1729. A 
church was gathered, partly of Indians and partly of English. 
When he went there, thirty one years after the death of Eliot, he 
could find no records or traces of any thing referring to the for- 
mer church. He labored 29 years, and died Feb. 2, 1752. Mr 
Badger was ordained March 27, 1753. He was in the ministry 46 
years. He closed his public services July, 1799, and died Aug. 23, 
1803. | After Mr Badger's death, the Indians had become so few 
in number that no provision was made for their particular instruc- 
tion. Rev. Freeman Sears was ordained as minister of the town of 

* Mather's Magnalia, Book III. 208. t Ibid. 210. 

t A letter written by Mr Badger concerning the Indians, may be found in 
the Hist. Coll. V. 32. 



71 



Natick, Jan. 1, 1806. He died June 30, 1811. Rev. Martin 
Moore was ordained his successor, Feb. 16, 1814 * 

The church of the ' South Congregational Society' is the fourth 
that has been erected on this hallowed spot. It was dedicated 
Nov. 20, 1828. The Dedication Sermon was preached by the 
Rev. Dr Lowell, of Boston, from Haggai, ii. 9. ' In this place will 
I give peace, saith the Lord of hosts.' As this is now a distinct 
parish, it has been suggested, that to commemorate the name of 
the Apostle to the Indians, it should be called Eliot, or Eliotville. 

* Hist. Coll, 1. 184. Mather, III. 194. VL 6L Moore's Memoirs of Eliot, 
p. 122. 



NOTE. 

The accounts which Eliot gives of his first interviews with the Indians, are 
contained in letters which he wrote home to his friends in England, and winch 
were there collected, and from time to time published in the form of pamphlets, 
The interest excited by these publications, led, in 1649, to the establishment and 
incorporation of the ' Society for the propagation of the gospel in New-Eng- 
land and the parts adjacent.' . 

These tracts are now very rare, at least in this country. Neal, in his Histo- 
ry of New-England, makes great use of them ; but none of the subsequent writers 
on the subject appear to have seen them. We know of but one copy ; which 
belongs to the Library of the American Antiquarian Society, in Worcester. 
The regulations of that Society forbid the removal of any book from the Library. 
Being thus debarred from all access to the originals, we have been obliged to 
make our extracts at third-hand, from Moore's Memoirs of Eliot, who copied 
them from the London Missionary Register. 

The Librarian of the American Antiquarian Society, has, at our request, ob- 
ligingly favored us with a description of these tracts, and their titles. They are 
all in the quarto form, closely printed, and are bound in one volume. They are 
made up principally of letters written by Eliot. There are some among them 
from the Rev. Thomas Mayhew, and a few from the Rev. John Wilson. The 
following are the titles of the pamphlets :— 

(1.) New-England's First Fruits ; in the conversion of some, conviction of 
diver S) preparation of sundry, of the Indians ; of the progress of learning in the 
College at Cambridge in Massachusetts Bay ; with divers special matters con- 
cerning the country. London. 1643. pp. 26. [A part of this tract has been re- 
published m the Hist. Coll. Vol. I. p. 242.] 

(2.) Good News from New-England. London. 1648. pp. 25. [This tract was 
written by Edward Winslow. The only other copy of it that we know of, is 
among the treasures of the Ebeling Collection in the Library of Harvard Col- 
lege. An abridgment of it is contained in the fifth volume of Purchas's Pil- 



72 



grims. The ' disjecta membra* of this interesting document may be seen in 
the Hist. Coll. VIII. 239—76, and IX. 74—105, 2d series. The tract was 
first published in 1624.] 

(3.) Of the conversion of five thousand, and nine hundred East Indians ; with 
a postscript of the gospel's good success among the West Indians in New-England. 
London. 1630. pp. 40. [The Postscript contains, — i. Good news of the day break- 
ing — ii. Of the clear sunshine — iii. Of the glorious progress of the gospel break- 
ing forth upon many West Indians in New-England. These three chapters 
are nothing more than abridgments of the three next pamphlets, and are made 
up mostly of extracts from the letters of Eliot.] 

(4.) The day-breaking, if not the sun-rising of the gospel with the Indians 
in New-England. London. 1647. pp. 25. [This tract was written by the Rev. 
John Wilson.] 

(5.) The clear sunshine of the gospel breaking forth upon the Indians of New- 
England. London. 1648. pp. 38. [This was written by the Rev. Thomas 
Shepard, of Cambridge.] 

(6.) The glorious progress of the gospel amongst the Indians of New-England, 
manifested by three letters from the Rev. John Eliot and the Rev. Thomas May- 
hew ; with an appendix by J. D., minister of the gospel. London. 1649. pp. 28. 
[This tract was published by Edward Winslow.] 

(7.) The light appearing more and more towards the perfect day ; or a further 
discovery of the present state of the Indians in New-England, concerning the 
progress of the gospel among them ; manifested by letters from such as preached 
to them there. By Henry Whitfield, late pastor of the church in Guildford, in 
New-England. London. 1651. pp. 46. [This tract is made up of letters from 
Eliot and Mayhew ; chiefly from Eliot.] 

(8.) Strength unto Weakness ; or a glorious manifestation of the further pro- 
gress of the gospel amongst the Indians in New-England, held forth in sundry 
letters from divers ministers and others to the Corporation established by Parlia- 
ment for the promotion of the gospel among the heathen in New-England. Lon- 
don. 1652. pp. 40. [This consists chiefly of letters from Eliot.] 

(9.) Tears of Repentance ; or a further narrative of the progress of the gospel 
amongst the Indians in New-England. London. 1653. pp. 47. [This is the 
largest tract in the volume. It appears to have been furnished by Eliot and 
Mayhew, and published under the direction of the Corporation. A large pro- 
portion of it is made up of the confessions of the converted Indians, reported with 
great minuteness.] 

(10.) A late further manifestation of the progress of the gospel amongst the 
Indians in New-England. London. 1655. pp. 23. [This was written by Eliot, 
and published by the Corporation.] 

These Indian tracts are too valuable to remain in obscurity. The Society, 
in whose keeping they now are, could publish nothing in their second volume 
more useful and interesting. If that volume is not to be soon forthcoming, can- 
not the Massachusetts Historical Society add this to the other treasures of their 
invaluable Collections'? 

The chapter of NeaPs History of New-England, on the c Conversion of the 
Indians,' is particularly valuable, as it was compiled from the documents just 
mentioned, and from the memoirs and letters of Eliot, Mayhew, and other mis- 
sionaries, to the Society for propagating the gospel. Where these were deficient, 
he tells us, he had the kind assistance of the Society itself. Having access to 
such materials, it is not surprising that he records many facts not to be found 
elsewhere. The assertion of Hutchinson, that Neal's History 'is little more 
than an abridgment of Mather, 5 is certainly not true of the chapter on the In- 
dians. 



ORDER OF EXERCISES. 



ANTHEM. 
INTRODUCTORY PRAYER, 



BY THE REV. MR SANGER, OP DOVER. 



SELECTIONS FROM THE SCRIPTURES, 



BY THE REV. MR SIBLEY, OF STOW. 



WRITTEN BY WILLIAM BIGLOW, OF NATICK. 



f 1 Let there be light,' Jehovah said, 
And light from chaos sprung ; 
And morning stars, and sons of God 
Loud alleluiahs sung. 

' Let there be light ' — man disobeyed, 
And mercy's light was shed ; 

The Son of Man in promise rose 
To bruise the serpent's head. 

On Abraham light prophetic shone, 
And warmed his faithful breast ; 

He saw the day of Christ, in whom 
All nations shall be blest. 

A host of holy seers beheld 

The day-spring from on high, 
Bright harbinger of perfect light, 
Dawn in the distant sky. 



ORIGINAL HYMN, 




10 



74 



At length the Sun of Righteousness 
Dispelled remaining gloom ; 

Full, never-ending day appeared 
Beyond the darksome tomb. 

0, for a beam of heavenly light, 

To fill this holy house, 
While Christians and their Pastor pledge 

Their mutual, solemn vows. 

SERMON, 

BY THE REV. MR YOUNG, OP BOSTON. 

HYMN, 

WRITTEN BY JOSIAH BIGLOW, OF NATICK. 

Here first, O Lord, the red men woke 
Their wild, untutored song to Thee ; 
Their altar was the forest oak, 
Their temple, heaven's high canopy. 

And where the hearth, with cheerful blaze, 
Welcomes a more enlightened throng, 
The desert heard their simple praise, 
And echoed back their grateful song. 

O, where is now that gathering band, 
That met in olden time to pray ? 
And where that holy man, whose hand 
First led them on their pilgrim way ? 

Peaceful they slumber, side by side, 
Where they thy holy name avowed ; 
The warrior's plume, the chieftain's pride, 
Before a stranger-race are bowed. 

Rich in the fulness of his days, 
That veteran of the cross is gone ; 



75 



His spirit heard the toil-earned praise, 
' Thou servant of the Lord, well done ! ' 

O, may his sacred mantle be 

To him, our chosen shepherd, given, 

His ardent, humble piety, 

His zeal, to guide his flock to heaven. 

PRAYER OF ORDINATION, 

BY THE REV. DR LOWELL, OP BOSTON. 

CHARGE, 

BY THE REV. MR THOMPSON, OF BARRE. 

RIGHT HAND OF FELLOWSHIP, 

BY THE REV. MR HAMILTON, OF TAUNTON. 

ORIGINAL HYMN, 

WRITTEN BY WILLIAM BIGLOW, OF NATICK. 

With prayer devout and fervent, 
O God, our heavenly King, 
Thy consecrated servant 
To Thee we humbly bring. 
To vanquish sin and error 
May he with power arise, 
With gospel love and terror, 
And none his youth despise. 

To him, through grace to inherit, 
Be a rich portion given 
Of the Redeemer's spirit, 
A foretaste pure of heaven. 



76 



This spirit, in him growing, 
Lord, aid him to impart, 
With fervour bright and glowing, 
To every hearer's heart. 

Prepare our hearts, 0 Father, 
This spirit to receive ; 
Let no bad passions gather, 
To quench it, or to grieve. 
Long, long, a faithful Pastor, 
May he thy flock supply, 
Ere, his approving Master 
Shall welcome him on high. 

To God all wise, all glorious, 
His first born Son who gave, 
And to the Lamb victorious 
O'er Satan and the grave, 
Be worship due ascending 
From heirs of love and grace, 
Through ages never ending, 
And boundless realms of space. 

ADDRESS TO THE SOCIETY, 

BY THE REV. MR BRIGGS, OP LEXINGTON. 

CONCLUDING PRAYER, 

THE REV. BERNARD WHITMAN, OF WALTHAM. 

ANTHEM. 



BENEDICTION, 

BY THE REV. JAMES W. THOMPSON. 



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